


fly faster!

by catmanu



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Macdeau, i don't usually write stuff like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: They haven't seen each other in six months.





	1. eleven pm

An hour into the flight, Justin changed the time on his watch.Suddenly it was 4 am, Paris time.He knew the route well.They were probably over Québec City right now.That was still just too close to home.

When he was a kid on these long-haul flights to exciting new places, he’d bounce in his seat and stare at the clouds and the ocean that never seemed to end and think at the plane, _fly faster, fly faster!_ When he was _really_ little, he was sure he could feel the plane picking up speed as he said it.It was like magic.

So he stood up and announced he was going to sleep a little, and that they’d go over everything for the meetings in the morning.He changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, putting on a fresh pair of striped socks—planes were _cold,_ weirdly cold—and flopped down on his stomach on his Right Honourable Airplane Bed, staring at his watch.

Now it was nearing 5 in the morning, Paris time, Manu’s time, and Manu would be waking up, stretching, shirtless, grabbing his phone.If he wasn’t already awake.His mind would already be working and planning and full steam ahead.Justin thought of other mornings he’d seen in better places than his imagination.When they woke up together and the early-morning light played off the angles of Manu’s face and as he reached for his phone, Justin would whisper, _stop, Manu, come here instead, come on, come to me_ , and he’d pull Manu close and they’d melt together.And Manu would still. And Justin’s heart would speed up.

 _Fly faster_ , he thought, imagining the plane picking up speed over Québec, or maybe they were over Newfoundland by now.The moon might still be out, glimmering on the wings of the plane like he’d seen so many times before.

But his watch was on Manu’s time.His heart was on Manu’s time.And on Manu’s time, the sun was coming up.

_Fly faster!_


	2. five am

At this point it was somewhat of a national joke, how sleep was unnecessary for him. _Four hours and he’s fine._ And there was truth to that, for the most part.

But Emmanuel knew that even he needed sleep before one of these big, multi-day summits.Eyes would be on him, waiting for him to slip up, to look _pale,_ to look _old,_ to chronicle every shadow of the alleged dark circles under his eyes.

And sleep was eluding him tonight.It was a cold and rainy May they were having, so he put on socks to pace the halls of the private quarters of the Élysée.At first he’d pulled one of his numerous pairs of black socks out of the drawer, but he’d thought for a second, and smiled to himself, and carefully pulled out his one bright red pair from the very back.He’d bought them because Justin had a pair just like them, because sometimes he was awfully stupid like that.Of course, he had the soul of a Romantic more than that of an investment banker or a politician, and he would be proud of this for the rest of his life, but _socks_ were a little gauche, weren’t they?A little juvenile, perhaps?

Gauche and juvenile and they made him smile whenever he looked down.

The sun was slowly coming up through the big, old windows and Emmanuel found himself sprawled on one of their couches, watching his toes wiggle under all the bright red.Némo was snuffling in his sleep somewhere nearby.But for that, it was silent and still.

It was five in the morning.Justin had departed Ottawa two hours ago.With a ten-hour flight time…Even contemporary Romantics had to do math sometimes.

The eight hours before Justin landed, the few more before he arrived, were going to be a fucking madhouse, that was for sure.He’d be sleepless and busy.No time to think about his sweet Canadian.No time to think about his sweet Canadian scooping him up into a hug so tight he felt his feet leave the ground.No time to think about him, not until he stepped through the doorway, looking slightly lost in that way that he had, lost until he found, until he was found…

Emmanuel unwound himself from the couch and walked to one of the big windows.He looked west.

He was going to keep being juvenile.That was alright, though.It was his secret--until he told Justin tonight.

 _Fly faster,_ he thought, looking toward Canada. _Fly faster…_

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on insta @emmanuyell <3 
> 
> Fluff is so not my thing. I was just so emotional about them reuniting for these few days in Paris. I hope you enjoyed!


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